Caught you like a Cold
by AnRevival
Summary: In the midst of an extremely personal feud with Chris Jericho, CM Punk finds solace with someone he least expected, and someone who may need just as much help as him.
1. Chapter 1

Caught you like a Cold.

Punk made his way through the backstage area, Chris Jericho's words still buzzing in his head. The bastard had the gall to bring up his family past, something that should have stayed in the dark. Jericho could have kept this rivalry at a professional Level, but no, he had to make it personal.

Every word Chris had said made Punk feel as though he were living his childhood all over again. He could almost smell the booze from his father and his voice echo in his mind. He remembered how his dad would be passed out on the living room floor and a beer bottle lying next to him.

Punk continued walking down the hall when someone placed a hand on his shoulder from behind. Punk spun around to clock whoever it was; hoping it would be Jericho, but stopped once he realized it was John Cena.

"Hey man, you alright?" John asked.

"Does it look like I'm alright?" Punk snapped, continuing on to the locker room and attempting to ignore John, who followed him inside.

"I just figured I'd ask... after seeing everything that just happened with Jericho." There was real concern in John's eyes as he said the words and, for some reason, it only made Punk angrier.

"I don't need your sympathy."

"Look, I know I can't say I've taken a walk in your shoes, but I've had friends since I was a kid who have had this same problem."

"Last time I checked, this was a wrestling arena, not a support group."

"What's going on over here?" Zack Ryder asked, coming to John's side. He'd been in the locker room when the two men had come inside and he was frowning.

"Nothing, Zack," Cena replied, thankful that Zack was the only one in the locker room at that moment. He had the feeling that this was going to turn into a scene.

"No no John, by all means, please tell your lover here all about how you think you're my fucking therapist!" Punk hissed, glaring at both men.

"Maybe we should leave you alone," John said. "I was just trying to help." Which, he probably should have known was a bad idea. He and Punk weren't the best of friends but he knew enough about the man to know that he should probably leave him alone when he was in one of these moods.

"You wanna help someone John?" Punk asked. "Why don't you help yourself fix that fucking Boy Scout, goody goody image of yours before Wrestlemania, before Dwayne knocks your teeth down your fucking throat!"

"Bro, chill, like John said, he was only trying to help," Zack interjected indignantly, coming to stand beside John.

"Just go, both of you." Punk's voice was a low, angry growl when he said the words. They needed to leave before he did something he might actually regret later.

"Alright, we're outta here." John said. "But I do still just want to help."

"And like I said, this isn't a support group for children of alcoholic parents."

"Good luck to you man," John said, walking out with Zack.

Punk stared after them before his back hit the wall and he slid down into a sitting position. Breathing a little harshly, his fists clenched until he could feel his nails digging into the palms of his hands. He'd never been more pissed off. At least, he hadn't since he'd signed his contract with WWE.

Jericho's words still rang in his head. Maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised. It was a tactic he'd used in the past to throw an opponent off their game. Attacking a person's family was a classic move. He'd used it himself on Rey Mysterio and Randy Orton.

But he was furious. He'd been tight lipped about his past since making it to the WWE for a reason. Bringing the hand up, he pressed the back of it to his mouth, a laugh escaping him that was half hysterical.

He hated it. Jericho had taken him off his game completely, shocked him. He'd claimed in a dozen different interviews that he was straight edge because of the stupid things he'd seen his high school friends do when they were drunk. He hated delving into the real reasons.

He'd never been one to brood and brooding over the fact that he still remembered his dad coming home smelling like beer or walking into the living room and finding his dad passed out on the couch was something he had always refused to do.

He was furious because he hadn't wanted this to be repeated on the show. He was furious because Jericho had surprised him. He was furious because Jericho was right. _And isn't that a bitch?_

He was a grown man. He was thirty three years old. He should not still be harboring those types of insecurities. Jericho had effectively torn straight through to one of his biggest fears, though. He hated Jericho for it and he would make Jericho pay for it.

Punk was so lost in thought, so lost in his own memory that he didn't hear it when the door to the locker room opened again. He did jump, however, when a hesitant hand touched his knee.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up to see AJ Lee crouched beside him, with a concerned look on her face.

He had to force himself not to snap at her the way he had Cena. She looked skittish enough as it was and he'd never liked intimidating women.

"I'm fine," he answered with a somewhat brittle smile, sure that anybody would be able to see through it but hoping that she would take the hint and leave it alone.

She hesitated for a brief moment, her hand hung in the air like she was unsure if she should reach for him again or leave him alone as the look in his eyes so clearly requested but, in the end, her courage failed and with a nod of her head, she stood up and preceded to gather Daniel Bryan's gear, and when she walked passed him again, he spotted the bruise on her forearm.

He reached forward and grabbed her arm gently. "What the hell is this?"

Her eyes instantly filled with fear and her breath caught in her throat. With a shaky breath, she replied, "I-I got hurt during training."

"How?" Punk pressed; trying to catch her gaze all while she tilted her head forward until her long hair fell over her face.

"Kelly did something wrong," she replied.

"You mean like grab you with enough force to leave a bruise?" He asked skeptically. He'd seen bruises like it before.

"Yeah, that's what happened."

Punk shook his head and finally stood completely and studied her expression. He didn't know her well but he had very suddenly forgotten all about his problems, about Jericho.

"AJ...Kelly did not do this."

"Yes, she did…" she quickly replied.

"Oh, really?" he asked, "Let's go ask her."

He started to pull her towards the door. He'd seen bruises like it. There was no way Kelly had made that bruise. He could tell her it was because he saw no nail marks on AJ's skin and Kelly did have some long nails. Or he could tell her that Kelly's hand was simply too small to create a bruise that large but he settled for calling her bluff.

"No!" AJ wrenched her arm from Punk's grip and took a couple of steps back, wide eyed. "I'm fine. You don't need to do this."

"Yes, actually I do," Punk countered, especially considering the fact that she had just confirmed what he had been thinking.

"Why? You don't even know me."

"Because, someone is hurting you, AJ." And he couldn't walk away from that. It wasn't in him.

"No...No...No one's hurting me," she protested weakly.

"Then why can't we talk to Kelly about the bruise?" he asked.

"Its fine, I promise," she replied, close to tears.

And he didn't want to make her cry. He also knew, from experience, that she probably would not admit it, even if Kelly didn't lie for her. He didn't know her, certainly not well enough for her to open up.

"Okay," he relented. "How about you just give me your number then?"

"Punk, I can't do that," she started, "Just please, let this go. I'm okay."

"I can't do that either," Punk stated firmly. "It doesn't matter if we know each other or not. I couldn't do it if you were a complete stranger. Give me your number, AJ. I don't care if you put my number under one of your girlfriend's names but I need a way to keep in touch with you."

"Nothing's going on, no one's hurting me."

"And you're sure that Kelly will corroborate your story? Maybe I should go get your number from her?" He hated backing her into the corner like that but he couldn't simply let her leave without some way of getting in touch with her.

"Fine," she snapped, anger invading her tone. She slapped her phone in his outstretched hand.

"I'm under Kaitlyn." He told her, when he handed her phone back to her. "If Bryan asks, Kaitlyn has two phone numbers."

AJ's lips thinned. "Great. You got what you wanted. Can I go now?"

"Yeah." He stopped her again, however and there was sincerity in his tone and in his eyes when he spoke next. "You know I can help you, right? You can tell me the truth."

Her eyes closed tight. She could tell that he really did want to help, but she was so afraid of what would happen if anyone found out... "I'm fine," she whispered, "I'm sorry about what Jericho said about your dad."

This time, he flinched noticeably and he opened his mouth to tell her that he was fine but stopped himself, realized that it might be a bit hypocritical when he was trying to get her to admit she wasn't.

"Yeah...You think I deserved it?"

"No, no one deserves this."

He touched her arm gently just below the bruise. "You don't deserve this either," he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt or argument. Then he stepped out of her way, allowing her to leave.

After she left he reached across to the bench, and pulled his bag to himself and searched the side pockets until he found his phone. He had about a dozen missed calls already. Several from his sisters, and from his friends. He stared at it a moment and it vibrated in his hand. The name that popped up on the display had him answering before he could think about it, bringing it up to his ear.

His back hit the wall again and before he knew it, he was on the floor once again just as he answered the call. He very suddenly felt incredibly drained, exhausted. The bullshit with Jericho, coupled with what had just happened with AJ made him feel like he was a lot older than thirty three in that moment.

"Hey," he answered the phone, resting his forehead against his forearm.

"Hey, man." At Colt's voice, tone laced with concern, the rest of the anger drained out of Punk and he sagged back against the wall a little more.

"You alright?"

"I'm fucking fantastic." Punk let out a half hysterical laugh. Now that AJ was out of the room, he let himself slump against the wall.

"I figured. You coming home? You've got a few days off, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Good. Look, I'm not going to spout off a bunch of platitudes because I know  
you but…if you want, you can trash my living room," Colt offered lightly.

Punk almost smiled. "Thanks," he said wryly. He did feel a bit better, talking to Colt. And, amazingly, he felt a bit better about his own situation after talking to AJ. At least, he would when he helped her

"You're my personal decorator," Colt replied.

This time, when the laugh escaped him, it wasn't so hysterical or hollow and he was reminded once again why Colt was his best friend. Not because he'd said anything terribly profound or life changing but because he knew Colt would be there waiting for him when he got back to Chicago, knew Colt would always be there if he asked and even if he didn't.

He wasn't sure how long it had taken him to get up off the floor of the locker room and get himself into the shower but by the time he made his way out to the parking lot of the arena, most everybody had already left. His flight wasn't until the morning and he was hoping that the rest of the roster was either asleep or out when he made it back to the hotel. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone and he was pretty sure that he might lash out at anyone who tried to mention what had happened on RAW.

Opening the car door, he quietly stepped out of the car and headed up the entrance way into the hotel. Even though it was useless (he's spent two nights at the same hotel), he pulled the hood up on his jacket. It was habit when he wasn't looking to get recognized and he hoped that he wouldn't bump into someone like John, who wouldn't be discouraged by his less than sunny demeanor. Shockingly enough, he didn't see anyone on his way to his room and he quickly went inside and shut the door.

Shucking off his shoes, and jacket, he dropped face first on the bed. He probably wouldn't be sleeping. He rarely slept on a good day and this was not a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

When most people would be just waking up at seven, Punk was wide awake. He couldn't sleep, even though his mind was drained. Insomnia, he'd decided years ago, was the gift that kept on giving. At least he wasn't late for his flight. That was a plus, he supposed. But spending several hours on a plane after not sleeping, after spending all night fuming about Jericho was not the highlight of his week. Also, he hadn't been able to keep his mind off AJ either. He'd refrained from texting her just yet but he didn't know how long that was going to last.

Colt, of course, was waiting for him in the airport with a smile on his face and looking as if he'd, at least, gotten some sleep. Punk stopped in front of him. "I hate you," he said first, without any heat whatsoever.

"I love you, too," Colt replied with a smile.

"Morning person," Punk grumbled, putting up a token protest when Colt reached for one of his bags.

"Morning," he replied taking one of the bags from him.

Colt started out and Punk automatically stepped in beside him. "I hate airports," he stated after a moment when he was almost shoulder checked by some guy trying to make it to his gate.

"They hate you too," he replied.

"People generally hate me." For a moment, he smiled like he was proud of that fact. "I can't figure out why."

"Me either, you're such a social person."

They made it out to Colt's car, keeping the conversation light between them. Thankfully. Punk seriously did not want to be talking about his issues in a crowded airport. After putting his bags into the back seat, both men got into the car and they began to drive the long way back to their neighborhood.

Resting his head against the back of the seat, Punk stared off into space a moment. He wondered idly what AJ was doing. He'd been thinking about her pretty much nonstop since he'd left the arena last night and what that bruise meant. He'd known Bryan for ten years and couldn't believe that the same man he'd known all those years would be the one to put a bruise on that girl.

"I'm so tired," Punk spoke softly, closing his eyes.

Colt glanced over to him, studying him a moment. "Figured." He paused. He'd seen the rage dancing in Punk's eyes earlier. "You're not going to break anything when we get there, are you?"

"No," Punk answered a little wryly. He'd been appropriately angry before but the mess with AJ had redirected that anger from Jericho to Bryan. And he really, really wanted to go find Bryan and beat the shit out of the guy.

Punk appreciated the fact that Colt wasn't pressing him about what had happened on RAW yet but he figured that might only last until they made it to his house.

Punk rubbed a hand over his face. The conversation with AJ had brought up plenty of memories all on its own. Things that he hadn't even told Colt before. He'd never been one to overanalyze himself or his past. He'd tried to be the one to only look forward, to not let his past weigh him down...

"I can stay at your house with you if you want," Colt spoke, with a smile.

Punk shrugged and brought a knee up in his seat, "Yeah...sure," he answered, distractedly, his mind still other places. They sat in silence for a while. Punk couldn't focus on anything with the memories of his childhood running through his mind.

It wasn't until Colt pulled up in Punk's drive and killed the engine that he turned to his friend fully. "You going to be alright?"

"Always," Punk answered before getting out of the car and going to unlock his front door.

"You sure?"

"Mmmhm." He opened the door and left it open for Colt before discarding his jacket and heading deeper into his house.

Colt knew not to press him, that if he wanted to talk he would. He took a seat on the couch, and waited.

"So, I guess you are staying?" Punk asked with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice at the way that Colt was making himself comfortable.

"Yeah, I'm not leaving you alone, man."

"Right." Punk dropped down on the couch next to him, the frown forming on his face again. "I think Bryan's changed more than I thought," he blurted out suddenly. He'd been wanting to say the words since Colt had picked him up.

"What do you mean?"

"Saw a bruise on AJ and then she lied about how she got it," Punk revealed with a sour taste in his mouth. He'd known Bryan almost as long as he'd known Colt...

"How did she say she got it?"

"Kelly," Punk said with a scoff. "I saw it, though, and I'm telling you. There's no way Kelly could have put that bruise on her."

Colt was shocked silent for a moment by this. "Bryan? Are you sure about that? I mean...it's Bryan."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He replied, "When I went to ask Kelly myself, AJ clammed up and asked me not to do it, that I didn't need to do this."

Colt's jaw clenched. He'd never been a cynical or as confrontational as Punk but there were a few things he'd start a fight with someone twice his size over. Hitting a woman was one of them.

"You need some help taking care of this?"

"I don't think violence would be such a good idea." There was a hint of regret in Punk's tone as he said it but Colt nodded.

"Yeah, I get that."

"I just don't know what to do." Punk admitted. "If I'm not able to convince her to leave him…"

Colt nodded, his brow creasing with worry, for this girl that he didn't know but mostly for Punk. He knew why Punk would be so invested in something like this, even though he'd never heard Punk talk about AJ before now.

"Well, you'll have to get her to trust you."

"That's going to be hard, most women in these types of relationships find it hard to trust anyone," He replied with a sigh as he put his face in his hands. "There're afraid to leave, they think they can somehow change the person, but it'll never stop."

Colt eyed him, studied his body language and the way he was staring off into space and was convinced, for that moment that Punk wasn't just talking about AJ.

"Well, you have to try, right?"

"I'm going to try my hardest," he whispered, "I have to save her."

The vehemence of that statement convinced Colt that he wasn't entirely in the conversation, that he wasn't talking about AJ alone and Colt's concern heightened.

Colt hesitated a moment, unsure if he should go this far. "This just about AJ or your mom?"

Punk's head snapped up, eyes wide. "What the hell are you talking about?" Anger immediately made its way into his tone.

"How long have we known each other?" Colt asked calmly. "I know-"

"Shut up," Punk practically growled, standing.

"Okay, I'll shut up."

"Good." Punk scrubbed a hand through his hair, suddenly looking restless and causing guilt to squirm in Colt's gut.

"You need to sleep," he finally spoke up, noting for the first time how exhausted Punk actually looked.

"I can't sleep," Punk answered, letting out an almost hysterical laugh.

"Please try?"

"I can't."

"Will you at least try and eat something?"

Punk finally met Colt's gaze and he must have seen the real concern in his eyes and the hint of guilt there because he finally relented.

"Yeah, alright."

"What do you want?" He asked, "I'll make it while you shower."

"Whatever's fine. I don't care." He started out but paused, turning to Colt with a frown. "Thanks," he managed before leaving the room without waiting for a reply.

Colt simply nodded before walking into the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

Punk's bedroom door was open and his bed was made. Colt had woken up just a few minutes earlier and gone in search of his friend, sure that he wouldn't be asleep. He'd gotten pretty used to Punk's sleeping patterns in the years they had known each other. There had been a few times when Punk had called him up in the middle of the night after not sleeping for days.

He paused in indecision but, in the end, got in his car and left Punk's house. He could have probably waited until Punk got back but he did not want to do that. Colt knew Punk's usual route, knew just where to stop and wait. Worry had made him make the drive, worry about the lack of sleep he knew Punk had had. Also, when Punk was upset or angry, he tended to go a little overboard with his workouts.

Xxxx

Feet pounding against the pavement, head lowered against the wind, Punk was running his usual route, the one he could run with his eyes closed but he had picked up his pace this time, almost sprinting really, trying to let the burn of his muscles and the steady thumping of his heart bleed away the anger that he had woken up with. Woken up...he'd barely managed three hours last night and that had only been because he hadn't slept in two days.

His mind was racing full speed, and he hated it. With every movement of his legs, another flashback entered his head, of AJ, of his dad, of the Abuse he had seen as a child. Running was the only thing that could drive the images out of his head, and he wasn't going to stop until the images were no more.

But AJ's trembling voice wouldn't leave his head, and neither wouldJericho's mocking one. He hatedJerichomore than anyone in that moment. He hatedJerichofor outing his secret. He hatedJerichofor making light of something that he really had had nightmares about. He hatedJerichofor making light of something that had caused a lot more people than him nightmares.

He'd always liked running. It had been since he was a teenager and he realized that it served two purposes. He could keep in shape and let his issues fall away with each step he took. He could feel his head begin to pound with every landing of his foot, and his heart was beating loudly in his ears, but he had to keep going, the images were still there, still visible.

It wasn't until his legs started to go numb and he'd made it back around to the beginning that he stopped abruptly. The change in motion and the trembling in his legs nearly sent him to the ground and he bent forward, his hand coming to rest on his knees, his breath coming out in sharp bursts.

The hand that landed on his shoulder almost made him jump and he looked up into Colt's eyes.

"Shit. What are you doing here?"

"I'm worried."

Punk laughed and the near hysteria in his voice had Colt taking another step closer to him. "Why would you be?"

"You're angry and exhausted. I know you haven't slept."

"I'm not angry," Punk protested. "I'm pretty fucking furious."

Punk was still breathing hard but it had less to do with his run and more to do with the rage at that moment. He glanced around the place, noting the people there and was suddenly aware that he did not want to have a meltdown in the middle of the park. He let Colt drag him the rest of the way to his car

"Do you want to talk?"

"Later," Punk answered in a clipped tone. He got in the car when Colt urged him to. "Not here."

"Okay, your place, or mine?"

"Mine." He paused. "It doesn't matter..."

"Okay, yours it is."

Punk leaned back in his seat and pressed his fingertips into his forehead. That headache was building rapidly. He needed to sleep. He'd been battling insomnia for years but this was ridiculous even for him. His legs felt like rubber, his head felt like it was stuffed with wool.

Colt started the car and began to drive to punk's house. He knew that punk was on the verge of a meltdown, and he wanted to be there to support him if he wanted to talk.

Colt started the car and began to drive to punk's house. He knew that punk was on the verge of a meltdown, and he wanted to be there to support him if he wanted to talk.

He also needed to try and get Punk to sleep. At least he was there. He knew Punk would eventually do it himself but not before running himself ragged and reaching that point of passing out, which wasn't, in Colt's view, healthy at all.

Punk immediately went to his couch and face planted. Colt rolled his eyes and slapped his ankles. "Come on. You're going to try to sleep, and when you wake up, I'm going to make you something else to eat. You can't eat once a day."

"Can't sleep," Punk mumbled into the couch cushions.

"But you're going to try," Colt stated firmly. Punk studied the look on Colt's face before letting out an exasperated breath.

"Yes, Mom." He let Colt drag him from the couch and into the kitchen and couldn't be angry at the man. He figured if anyone could help him get over the lingering issues he had, it would be Colt.

Punk waited until he was in his room before he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts for AJ. He sent her a quick text first.

_You alone?_

_Yes, why_-he got back just a minute later.

He didn't wait, instead pressing call and bringing his phone up to his ear.

"Hi," she said when she answered the phone.

"Hey, how you doing?" He almost smiled and dropped down on his bed.

"I'm okay, you?"

"I'm okay." He paused. "See, I can lie too."

She giggled, "Its easier then telling the truth, isn't it?"

Pulling his legs up, he crossed them. "So, what are you doing?"

"Talking to you, trying not to get caught. If I mention something about make-up, or clothes, you know why."

"Wait...you're with him? Days off, AJ. Why aren't you with your family?" He'd been hoping that she'd at least get a reprieve on her days off, that she could escape to her family.

"Not allowed," she replied, "He says he's my family now."

"And you're okay with that?" Punk asked incredulously. Although he never figured real family meant you had to be blood related, he did believe family was everything. More important than whoever you might be dating.

"It's for the best," she said timidly, sounding way to unsure of herself.

"Yeah, it sounds like you think so."

"Did you call just to run me down for my decisions?"

"No. Maybe I called to talk about me?" He teased her lightly.

"What's up?" she asked, "How are you doing ever since Monday?"

"If I tell you the truth, you going to tell me the truth?" He asked first.

"Yeah, I'll try." she whispered

"I'm still so pissed off that I want to findJerichoright now and break something on him and I can't stop thinking about my crappy childhood because of him which pisses me off even more because I'm thirty three years old and I was sure I was over this stuff." He paused. "So, how are you really doing?"

"I feel like I'm a child with him. I can't do anything without asking him."

"But you're staying with him..."

"I love him, and I know he lovesme." She replied, "That's why he does what he does. I just need to realize that."

"Abuse isn't love, honey," Punk protested. "No one deserves that sort of love."

"I make him mad," she replied.

"I make people mad all the time. Think I deserve to get my ass kicked for it?"

"No, but you're not me."

"It's my fault, I disobey him, which makes him angry."

"Why would you deserve it if no one else does. If...Kaitlin was getting treated this way, do you think she'd deserve it? Or would you try and get her away from the man doing it to her?"

"No, she wouldn't deserve it, and you bet I'd try to get her away."

"Okay...if she wouldn't, why would you?" He pressed.

"She's prettier, smarter, and more popular than me." She whispered, "I'll never be able to find anyone else, I'm ugly, fat, and stupid."

"If you're fat and ugly, I'm Big Show," Punk countered immediately.

"You're not big show." she replied with a laugh.

"And you're not ugly."

"Yes, I am."

"Trust me on this one, honey. You're beautiful. You're not calling me a liar, are you?"

"No- Yeah, I think blue eye-shadow looks good on you, Kaitlin."

"Guess that means I should go. I will be texting you later, though. Trust me on that one."

"Okay, see you later."

Punk hung up with a sigh, still worried about what was happening on the other end of the line but unable to do anything about it at that moment. He did lay back but doubted he'd be sleeping that night either.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Punk was bouncing on the balls of his feet, hands clasped together, rolling his wrists in anticipation for his match against Ziggler. It was the first house show after RAW and he was anxious to get the match started. Colt was backstage, had come with him, still worried about him. He hadn't slept much at all on his days off and his mind was still onJericho. And on AJ. He'd spoken to her once more on his days off and texted her several more times. He just couldn't get her off his mind. Unfortunately, she and Bryan wouldn't be at the house show since they were both a part of Smackdown.

He was still agitated, still angry when his music finally hit. His bad mood had only gotten worse the longer he went without sleep, the longer he had to think aboutJerichoand it showed during his match. The match quickly degenerated from the normal back and forth that he and Ziggler usually had to something a bit more brutal. Punk repeatedly drove Ziggler into the corner, and used his feet as the weapons he had honed them into. His emotions had already been volatile coming into the match and he and Ziggler had locked up so many times in the last couple of months that he knew Ziggler's style almost as well as his own. It didn't last as long as it usually did and he didn't celebrate as long as he normally would either. When he got backstage, Colt was waiting for him.

"I wish I could help you feel better," Colt whispered when he saw his friend.

"Can you bringJerichoin here so I can kick his teeth down his throat?"

"I don't think he's here, sadly."

"Ziggler's a poor substitute," Punk commented, going to his bag to pull out some clothes so he could shower and change. Walking into the shower, Punk could feel his anger rise just thinking about what had happened almost a week earlier. The wait was killing wouldn't show until RAW that Monday.

Xxx

The simmering anger just below the surface was beginning to bubble over by the time Monday night rolled around. Colt had come to RAW as well and was standing beside him as the show started. "You just have to remember, he can't make you into something you're not. He can't make you give up your standards." It was a mantra Colt had been repeating leading up to RAW and Punk's lips thinned in 't even there. He didn't answer Colt but when his music hit, he did go out to start the show. There were a few things he needed to get off his chest.

Hearing the cheers from the crowd couldn't even make him smile, not one bit. He knew everyone was waiting, wanting to know how he felt about whatJerichosaid last Monday night.

"_Right off the bat, I wanna let everyone know that Chris Jericho isn't here tonight. Which just goes to show you exactly the kind of man Chris Jericho is? But at the end of the day, him not being here...it's a gift. Because Chris Jericho pissed me off. Last week, in front of the world, Chris Jericho said that my father_..."

He had to pause, that anger-rage-coming back, stronger than ever.

"_Chris Jericho said that my father is an alcoholic. You know what, I'm not sure it was supposed to be some big secret. But it's not Chris Jericho's story to tell. It's none of Chris Jericho's business. It's not so much that he said it, or how he said it, but the fact that he said it in front of the entire world_."

That had punk very angry, it was his story to tell, if he wanted to tell.

"_Here I am In front of the audience, millions of people watching around the world and I'm basically on Front Street, under a microscope. I'm naked for all the world to see. I look out here and I see little kids, I see grown ups. Parents, brothers, sisters. There isn't a person in this building or sitting at home that hasn't been negatively affected by the disease of alcoholism_."

He knew that he wasn't alone in the world that somewhere, someone was living the life that he had lived as a child, and he wanted to be an example to them, to tell them that there is light at the end of the tunnel.

"_I'm not going to let Chris Jericho swindle some kid into thinking that just because life dealt him a crap hand that he can't somehow shake it off and still be destined for greatness. He wants to make light of a serious subject all because he wants to get in my head and under my skin for some sort of advantage at Wrestlemania_."

He knew what Chris was trying to do, and he wasn't going to give him what he wanted. He decided that he wouldn't allow Chris to break him, to get inside his head. At the end of the match, it would be Punk standing tall, and the better man not Chris.

"_And Chris Jericho wants to play headgames. He wants to say that I'm predisposed to drink, that it's in my genes. Well, that just goes to show that Chris Jericho doesn't know me at all! and it backfired, Chris! It's backfired because if there's a devil in DNA, it's now your problem and at Wrestlemania if there's a monster inside me, I'm gonna let that monster out_."

It felt good to let the anger he had had in his system out, he felt relieved that he said what he had said. He wanted nothing more then to killJericho, but he knew that would be letting him off going to feel his wrath come April first, and he wanted everyone to know it.

"_I refuse to let my past dictate my future. There isn't a person on this planet that should let a past nightmare dictate their future dreams_!"

He felt like he was gaining some sense of power back, felt like all the memories and feelings he had felt for the past week were being washed away with every word he spoke, and the fans reactions made that more clear to him.

"_Chris Jericho forgot to tell you the finish of that story. And that's that my father has worked extremely hard, just like millions of people around the world, and he has overcome his addictions. He has beat his demons. Here's the most important part: I am proud of my father. I'm proud of my father and I am proud of being straight edge. Because it's real and it comes from the heart and it's true and it's tattooed on my skin for a reason! Because it's what I believe. I'm proud of my father and all the obstacles he's overcome and Chris Jericho, that's exactly what you are to me, you're an obstacle. You can go around an obstacle, you can jump over an obstacle or I could be like you and dig a hole to go under that obstacle. But I'm here to let you know that at Wrestlemania you, Chris Jericho, are my obstacle and I'm going straight through you to prove that I am the best in the world_!"

He felt like he was back to where he was before the whole world knew his secret, his confidence showing once again. He never felt so sure of himself in his life, but letting all that anger out proved to him that Chris failed in his attempts to break his spirit, his pride.

"_Punk! Punk! I want you to listen to me. Listen to me! I didn't think it was right to be there tonight. I didn't want to face you in person because I want you to really listen to what I have to say. All the points you've been making right now are right. I was out of line for what I said last week and I'm sorry. This is Chris talking to you right now. I was out of line, I crossed into territory I had no right to cross into. And I'm sorry. I can promise you I will never say anything about your father on this show again_."

Punk looked skeptical, as his words meant nothing to him anymore. He knew Chris was up to something, it wasn't like him to do something like this.

"_However...your sister, well that's a whole other ball game, isn't it_?"

His eyes flashed with anger and a sense of worry. His sisters were his family, and he'd do anything for them, even if that meant giving up his life.

"_Oh come on, Punk. I found out all about your sister's substance abuse problems." _

_"Chris, shut up. What are you talking about_."

"_It's well documented your sister has problems with drugs and as anybody knows drug addicts will do anything to score their next fix_."

That pissed him off more then what Chris had said about his father, because what he said about his sister was a total lie-she never had a drug problem, and having someone say something about her that wasn't true pissed punk off to no end.

"_And I'm sure you're still proud of her and you still love her just like you claim you still love your father but come on, seriously? There's a pattern starting here, Punk. Your father's an alcoholic, your sister is a drug addict and you're going to end up just like them. It's inevitable. Punk, you're going to drink. It's your destiny. The good news is that substance abuse and alcoholism can be overcome, it can. Bad news? When I beat you at Wrestlemania and become the new WWE champion. That's something you will never overcome. Never_."

Wiping a hand across his forehead, Punk tried to get his emotions in check but the rage burning through his veins was almost all consuming, too hard to ignore and too volatile to keep inside. He was hardly aware of what he was saying even as he shouted words to Jericho that were definitely not PG. Someone would probably be pissed about it later and he might get fined for it but in the moment, he didn't care.

As he walked backstage, he couldn't keep the anger in any longer as he punched a wall in wouldn't stop. He just had to keep going. Punk had been pissed about whatJerichohad said about his father but that the man had the audacity to talk shit about his sister...His sisters were everything to him, the only real family he was close to anymore.

Sitting on the floor of the locker-room, punk didn't hear the door open until he heard footsteps walking his way. He looked up to see AJ standing in front of him. "I'm so sorryJerichois doing this to you."

Punk leaned his head back against the wall and smiled at her. "Hey, didn't know you were here."

"Snuck away from Daniel."

Punk glanced at the door, saw that it was closed and that she had locked it before he reached for her and pulled her down so that she was sitting next to him. "How are things withBryantoday?"

Looking down, she fidgeted with her hands before answering, "He's pissed he has to face Ryder tonight."

Punk scoffed. "Why would he be pissed about that? I may have lobbied for Ryder last year but lately he hasn't been good enough to be Santino."

"I honestly don't know."

Punk hesitated before speaking again. "He's changed a lot, right?" He bumped her shoulder. "Hey, I've knownBryana lot longer than you have and his behavior as of late surprised the hell out of me..."

"Yeah, he's definitely changed."

"He's not going to change back, AJ...and even if he does, it won't erase what he's already done."

"How do you know?" she asked, "You never know, Once I figure out how to change him, he might change."

"And you think it's possible? That he's just going to suddenly change back one day?"

"Maybe, I hope so," she replied.

Punk picked up her hand and began playing with her fingers, deciding to drop it for the moment. "So...reading anything good lately?" he asked, a teasing light in his eyes.

"Yeah, have you?" she asked with a smile.

"Well, of course. You know, I had no idea that you were a comic book geek. Now, we really do have to talk about that, don't you think? You know, shared interests and all..."

AJ's smile widened and she let him close his fingers around hers. "Yeah."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

As he walked into the arena for SmackDown that Tuesday, his first thought was to try and find AJ before his tag team match later on in the night. He had texted her several times, but got no reply. He hoped she was okay, and that soon he could get her away from the abuse.

His tag match would be against Bryan and Miz and he knew she'd be out there. Finally, he gave up and headed towards the women's locker room, knocking on the door, hoping to at least find Kaitlin if not AJ to get an explanation.

Opening the door when he got the all clear, he spotted Kaitlin sitting on one of the benches and motioned for her to follow him. She looked at him for a moment, not sure why he'd want to talk to her, but when he mouthed "AJ" she stood up and walked out with him.

She followed him until they reached a deserted part of the hallway. "You haven't spoken to AJ, have you?" He asked as soon as they were alone. He could see the confusion in her eyes, probably had no clue that he'd been speaking to AJ.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because she hasn't been answering my texts and I know that it's only been a day but I'm still getting a little worried."

"He let's you talk to her?"

Punk grimaced and shrugged. "I may have put my number under your name. I bumped into her and saw a bruise...couldn't leave it alone. Been trying to talk her into ditching him since."

"Why would you want to help?" she asked, "You and 'him' were best friends."

"Were," Punk stressed. "Bryan and I were never best friends but even if we were, I couldn't stay friends with someone who would treat a woman like that."

"No, I haven't."

Punk sighed and rested his hand against the wall. "Dammit. You don't think she's...hurt, do you?" There was genuine concern in his eyes that Kaitlin clearly saw.

"I hope not…"

"Well, I guess I'll know if she shows up for the tag match later..." He trailed off, staring off, every instinct he had telling him to find her now and to find Bryan.

"She's not going to leave him, trust me. I've been trying to get her to leave for months now." She replied, "And no, I haven't spoken to her today. She called me last night to see if I needed my hair done, and I heard 'him' screaming 'where were you before my match, AJ' and then the phone went dead. I've been trying to call and text ever since then."

Punk ran a hand over his face at that, guilt immediately squeezing his insides and making his stomach roll. "She was with me before his match," he admitted with a grimace. "This is my fault."

"It's not your fault."

"Right." He didn't believe her and she could see that. "I need to get ready for my match..."

"It really isn't," she replied, "Please beat the living hell out of him for AJ and me?"

"I'm going to definitely try," he responded with a tight smile. He patted her on the shoulder on his way past, leaving to go find his own locker room so he could get ready.

By the end of his tag match with Sheamus, Punk was filled with a sort of grim satisfaction. Sheamus pulled him to his feet and he allowed the man to hold him up as he watched AJ and Bryan outside the ring. Bryan was lying on the floor, holding his knee. Seemed like Sheamus had gotten in a few nasty shots after Punk had tagged him in.

As trainers came to check on Bryan, Punk couldn't help but smile a little. But the smile faded fast as he took in AJ's hysterical state and he drew away from Sheamus when he saw Bryan push her away, yelling something.

"THIS IS YOUR FAULT!" Bryan screamed at her.

She was left kneeling ringside while the doc helped Bryan backstage. Without thinking, Punk slid out of the ring and went over to her, crouching beside her.

"I did this…" she whispered. "This is my fault."

How exactly is this you're fault? Did you push him off the apron? Were you the one who kicked him?" Punk asked, with a hint of frustration.

"I didn't warn him, I didn't help him."

Punk ran a hand through his hair as Sheamus stopped beside them. "She alright?" He asked, a bit of uncertainty in his voice. Punk shook his head.

"AJ." He put his hand on her shoulder, tried to ignore the flinch she gave. "You really think you wanted to hurt someone else?" He gestured towards Sheamus. "Him? Or me?"

"No…"

Punk opened his mouth to respond but became aware that they were still at ringside, still under the eye of thousands of people. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you out of here."

He extended his hand to her, and she took it. He helped her up and walked with both her and Sheamus backstage.

Punk was aware that he had probably just started a dozen rumors with what he'd just done but he didn't care at that moment.

"I didn't get ya, did I?" Sheamus asked her, sounding truly worried. She'd been standing close to Bryan when he'd made his last attack on the guy.

"No. I'm fine."

Sheamus raised an eyebrow and shared a look with Punk. She was obviously lying, although they were both sure she had no physical injuries.

"Can I talk to AJ alone?" Punk asked.

"Sure thing, fella." He nodded, threw one more concerned glance AJ's way before walking away.

"I'm fine," she said, "Really."

"Sure you are." He pulled her down on the bench in the locker room until they were both sitting.

"What do you want?" she asked.

He rolled his head back and forth and gave her a sad smile. "I want...a shower. I'd like to be able to sleep through an entire night. I'd like to get through an entire RAW without Jericho bringing up my family. I'd like to see you kick Bryan in the balls and tell him to fuck off. Because that's what he deserves."

"I didn't mean to make you angry…"

"Angry? I'm not angry with you, AJ. I'm pissed off that Bryan turned out to be such a complete douche bag." He paused a moment and took a few breaths, trying to calm down. Calling Bryan names wasn't helping.

"But I'm the reason he's acting like this."

"You really think that? You really think that you deserve to be treated this way? You really think that you turned him into the jackass he's been over the past several months?"

"Yeah, I do."

Punk frowned. "Do you think I'm a complete idiot then? I mean, you wouldn't be the first..."

"No, what do you mean?"

He took her hand then. "Look, I believe people should get what they deserve. What I believe is that you deserve to be happy. I believe that you're beautiful and that you don't deserve what he's been doing to you. So, here's my question. If you deserve it, and I'm not an idiot, why am I not treating you the same?"

"I'm not disobeying you, we aren't dating, and I haven't given you a reason to hit me... Yet."

"Fuck...AJ. I don't know if I should be furious with Bryan over that line of thinking or offended that you'd think I could possibly ever hit you or any other woman."

"I'm sorry…" she quickly tensed her body. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be sorry." He leaned closer to her, met her gaze, his own intense. "I get that you're not going to believe me when I tell you he's in the wrong. But...I need you to believe me when I tell you that I'd never hit you. That there would never be anything that could make me do that."

She looked down and turned her head away, fighting tears.

"I should go," she said, voice trembling slightly but he didn't let go of her hand.

"AJ..."

She met his gaze again, saw the sincerity, the intensity, his words still rolling around in her head and...She believed him.

Punk let out a breath and a small smile. That was a start at least.

"I should go," she spoke up again.

He nodded and let her hand go. "Please tell me the truth, did he hurt you because of last night?"

She could see guilt shining in his eyes and she was hit with the sudden knowledge that she hated that. He didn't deserve to feel guilty, not when he had been so nice to her.

"No," she answered, her voice completely steady. She forced herself to meet his gaze just as steadily and, for the first time, she lied with ease.

"Thank god," he replied, "I'm going to find a way to get you out of this, I promise."

AJ smiled sadly and, without thinking, leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. "I have to go," she repeated, getting up and going to the door. At the last second, she stopped and turned to him. "Thank you."


	6. Chapter 6

Chewing her lip and leaning against the wall, AJ stared down at her phone. She was backstage at RAW, waiting for the show to start. Daniel had been scheduled in a tag match for the start of the show but her mind wasn't currently on Daniel.

She had spoken to Punk several times and couldn't help herself. He was hard not to like and, even though she was terrified of Daniel finding out, she did enjoy the conversations, because he didn't judge her, didn't push her into talking about it if she didn't want to. She had confided in him more than she had planned on in the beginning but he never once got angry or judgmental with her.

It was surprising, astounding even. He treated her so differently. She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard someone walking up and quickly looked up to see Daniel and she tried to smile at him. The show was about to start, after all.

"Ready for your match?"

"Shut up." He replied, grabbing her arm.

She followed along after him, her mood dropping further with each step she took.

Xxxx

Her knees pulled up in the seat, AJ's gaze alternated between the monitors and her boyfriend, who had been conversing with several guys backstage. His friendships had changed drastically in the last several months as he became more and more obsessed with winning and keeping his title.

AJ's attention was drawn to the monitors when Punk's music hit just a few moments later and she watched him make his entrance, seeing him in an all new light after the past several weeks. She cringed automatically when Jericho interrupted his entrance and her jaw nearly dropped when he called Punk a bastard.

Stomach clenching in sympathy, first at the look on Punk's face at Jericho's words and second at the attack from behind from Christian, her fists clenched and she sat up a little straighter. She was reminded, once again, that he seemed to be having just as many personal problems as her and she felt a shot of guilt that all they'd been talking about was her.

She made a promise to herself to try and help Punk, just like he was trying to help her.

She fought the sudden urge to get up out of her seat as Christian beat him down in the ring but the beat down didn't last long before Punk turned it around. Her breath caught when he got Christian outside of the ring, when he beat Christian's head against the announce table before landing vicious elbows to Christian's neck.

The brutality of the attack stunned her. She had been a fan of wrestling, of course, for years and she had seen something like this out of Punk before. She had seen his vicious attacks on Jeff Hardy, had seen him torment Rey Mysterio's family but that had been several years ago and she hadn't known him then.

Her eyes stung as he locked in his submission maneuver, and he was screaming, eyes wild. She had to put a hand over her mouth.

"Pathetic," Daniel said with a disgusted look. AJ did not respond verbally to that. She couldn't. Jericho had driven Punk off a ledge but AJ was speechless in the face of what he was capable of. She hesitated a moment before she w as up and out of her seat, heading for the door in a rush, almost sprinting.

For the first time, she completely ignored Daniel when he called to her.

Xxxxxxx

"Punk!" AJ called, seeing him walking down the hall. She'd finally caught up to him after searching the halls after his match.

Punk only glanced in her direction but kept his steady pace towards his locker room. "What do you want?" He asked, making an obvious effort to keep his voice level.

AJ steeled herself. She'd known his was a little volatile at the moment but she also remembered his words from before and she knew he wouldn't hurt her. "Christian didn't deserve it," she quickly blurted out.

He turned to her, his eyes blazing. "He attacked me from behind. You know, I am so sick of people attacking me from behind." He abruptly turned again and opened the door to his locker room. He left it open and AJ took it as an invitation to go in herself.

"I know. I'm sorry," she whispered. His back was to her as he unwrapped his wrist tape and she closed the door. Walking over to him, to where she was standing on his right side, she put her hand over his, stilling them.

"Maybe it's karma..." He stared off when he said it and AJ stepped even closer to him.

"Karma?" AJ's tone turned confused.

"I'm not a good guy, AJ," he commented a little bitterly, pulling his hands from hers. "You've seen it, haven't you? All the bullshit I've done over my career. And that's not even just since I signed with WWE."

"That doesn't matter." She said, looking him in the eyes, "That's all in the past."

"I lied before, you know. That speech I gave about my dad? I don't even talk to that man if I don't absolutely have to. Actually, I don't talk to either of my parents unless I absolutely have to." The abrupt shift in subject made AJ think that he hadn't believed her and the worried frown on her face deepened.

"Punk..." AJ hesitated a moment and then, without thinking, she stepped into his personal space, went up onto her toes and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

He returned the gesture after a second, wrapping his arms around her as well, burying his face in her hair and pulling her even closer to his body. They stayed like that for several seconds, neither wanting to break that closeness. When AJ finally pulled back, she blushed a little bit, for the first time realizing that he was still only in his trunks and kick pads.

"I...I should probably...go," she said a little reluctantly. She'd seen him a hundred times in his ring attire but there was something about being so close to him, to being alone in the room with him that made it seem almost intimate.

AJ chewed her lip and looked down when he brushed her hair back from her face and she found that she did want to stay. No one had ever looked at her the way he was. Like she was important to him...like she was vital.

"I don't want to leave you," She replied, "But I'm afraid I have to."

"Or you could stay," he suggested. "Stay with me." She looked away again, tears stinging her eyes. She knew Daniel was going to be very angry with her for running out the way she had.

"I'm sorry..." she replied, letting the tears fall

"Don't be." He brushed the tears away with his thumb. "Just promise you're going to keep in touch."

"I promise," she replied with a sad smile.


	7. Chapter 7

Her knees pulled up in her chair, AJ browsed around on the internet on her laptop. Daniel had left about an hour earlier to get a suit last minute and she was a little bored. Chewing her lip and glancing towards the closed hotel room door, she typed in the web address to a certain person's website.

Clicking on the Wrestlemania diaries link, she went to the most recent entry and froze. The picture of him was flattering. It was black and white and he was walking in the rain. The problem came with the red head huddled under the umbrella with him.

In the few weeks they'd started talking, he gave no indication that he was seeing someone; in fact he'd asked her to stay with him just a few nights ago. But there he was, walking in the rain with Lita, of all people. She'd heard the rumors about them from before. That they'd dated. A new feeling clawed its way through her insides and she felt the irrational urge to find the woman and hit her.

She wanted to find Punk and demand what was up with him and Lita, to find out if what she was thinking in that moment was true. She didn't know why she felt so different looking at the pictures, she was with Daniel after all.

But she was angry and she couldn't help it. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Why was Lita leaning so closely to him? Was he dating her again? They'd talked so much over the past several weeks. Why wouldn't he of told her about it if they were dating again? And why would he have asked her to stay with him on Monday night? Why did he return the hug? And why did he care about her so much, if he was dating Lita again?

AJ had to physically shake herself to calm down. She read the caption beneath the photo, which declared that the two of them were just friends and a bit of her anger died down. She had no clue why she was even reacting the way she was.

It wasn't as if she had feelings for Punk...right?

Xxxxxxxx

AJ stood uncomfortably in her dress near the back of the room, waiting impatiently so that she could sit down. She hated heels and she'd already nearly tripped half a dozen times in the things on her feet. The Hall of Fame ceremony would start soon, thankfully.

That was about the time that she saw Punk. He was talking to a few of his friends and she felt the urge to go over there and ask him about those pictures. She couldn't, of course. Not with Daniel standing so close by her and she was careful not to let him see her watching the other man. Although, her lips thinned when she saw that one of those friends with him was Lita and that feeling from before came back with a vengeance when she saw him drape an arm over Lita's shoulders.

She averted her gaze and hoped that Punk wouldn't notice her when they passed close by Punk and Lita who had yet to move towards their own seats. Her stomach clenched when she heard his familiar, deep voice.

"Come on, Amy. You know you love me." There was a teasing quality to his voice.

She didn't hear Lita's entire response but she did hear an exasperated "Phil!" Before she passed completely out of earshot. AJ let Daniel steer her towards her seat after that. She was practically vibrating with emotion. She'd called him by his first name. Nobody did that. At least, nobody he didn't consider family.

She wondered if there truly was something else going on between them. She didn't have too terribly long to think about it, however, as the show began and she was actually caught up in it. Especially when Edge came out. She managed to forget her anger for a little while.

His speech brought her to tears, especially when Christian told of the story about how Edge bought his mom a house so she wouldn't have to rent anymore. Daniel looked bored beside her, looking bored. And he made a few noises that maybe should have gotten him kicked out. AJ's emotions were still going haywire and, for the first time, she desperately wanted to tell him to shut up.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

She knocked on the door and opened it before he had time to ask who it was. The look on her face sent confusion on his.

"Hey," he said, setting his boots aside. He had been about to start changing himself but he'd never seen that look on her face before.

"How was the walk in the rain?"

"What?" Punk frowned at the controlled quality in her voice.

"The walk in the rain." She said again, "Do I need to show you the picture?"

Punk drew back a little more to study her. She was pissed. He'd pissed off enough women in his lifetime to recognize that. The problem this time was that he wasn't exactly sure what he'd done to piss AJ off. Usually, he knew. Usually, it was something he'd said without thinking.

But it had been raining yesterday and he knew they had posted some pictures of him and… "Shit. Seriously?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah, seriously. You wanted me to stay with you Monday, and yesterday I find you huddled next to another woman?"

Punk's eyes narrowed and he felt his temper rise as well. "Right. Tell me, AJ. Have you dumped Daniel Bryan yet? Are we dating?"

"No." she said with a sigh, "I just felt…betrayed. I don't even know why! Please don't stop being my friend..." she whispered, realizing he was angry as well and she was afraid he'd stop being her friend.

Punk watched as she visibly deflated and he sighed. "Look, Lita's a friend. Just a friend." He paused at the look on her face. "Don't look so surprised. You know, a guy can be friends with a girl without ending up dating them." He picked up his boots and tilted his head to the side. "Sit down, would you?"

She took a seat beside him, and sighed. "I'm sorry."

He grinned at her. "You were jealous," he said, grabbing his bag and rummaging for his wrist tape.

"Don't be. Me and Lita tried that out once and we nearly killed each other. Well, I think she was contemplating murdering me in my sleep by the time we broke up."

"Can I ask what happened?"

"Apparently, I'm a great friend but very, very hard to live with," he admitted with a shrug.

"Awe, I'm sorry." she replied.

"Yeah..." He trailed off a moment. "So, why exactly where you jealous?"

"I don't know..."

He was quiet a moment, contemplating whether or not he should confront her further about it. There was only one reason she would have been jealous, after all.

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, I have to go meet up with Bryan, sorry."

"Wait..." He called as she jumped from her seat, threw him one last apologetic glance and fled the room. "Dammit."


	8. Chapter 8

"Oh hell." The words escaped Punk's mouth with him barely even noticing, his gaze focused on the monitors. He had to wince at what he had just seen. The World Heavy Weight title match he'd just watched had lasted a grand total of eighteen seconds.

Bryan had screwed himself. The fact that Bryan had lost in such a short time wasn't what had him wincing, however. It was the fact that he was pretty sure Bryan was going to blame AJ for it. It wasn't her fault, but Punk knew that Bryan wouldn't admit that it was his fault for losing. He saw the shocked look on AJ's face, and began to worry for her.

At the same time, he had no idea what he could do about it. If he went to her while she was with Bryan, it would most definitely only cause her more problems. With a sigh, he decided he'd wait to talk to her another time; he had to focus on his match with Jericho later on that night. His phone beeped a second later, however and he picked it up from the bench behind him, saw the message from Colt, who was in the sky box.

Did you see that?

I did, Punk replied. Fucking hell, man. Bryan's going to be pissed.

Yeah, He is. Have you talked to AJ about leaving him?

Yes. Punk's lips thinned in anger. She won't listen to me. You got any idea how to keep him from hurting her other than me killing him with my bare hands?

Call the cops? Kidnap her?

Be serious. She'd never speak to me again then how would I help her?

I don't know. I could help you kill him?

We are in Florida. We could bury the body in the swamps. Nobody would ever find it, Punk replied, only half joking.

That's a great idea!

Punk almost smiled at the enthusiasm for a plan that included premeditated murder but his mood turned sour again pretty quickly.

I'm not going to be able to get her alone tonight.

Damn.

And I STILL have Jericho to worry about.

I wish I could help you, man.

Yeah I know. Punk rolled his neck and sighed. Alright, maybe I can at least take some of this out on Jericho.

Sounds like a plan. I'll be cheering you all the way.

Thanks. Punk closed his phone and put it in the side pocket of his bag, heading out of the locker room.

Xxxxx

If Punk was pissed before, it was nothing compared to how he felt as he waited behind the curtain for his music to start. Laurinitus had managed make his already bad mood even worse with the stipulation that if he was disqualified, he'd lose the title. He was sure Jericho was going to try and use that to his advantage.

He was right, of course. It wasn't long after the bell rang that Jericho's taunts started. First, with a couple of slaps to the face that had the rage boiling in Punk's veins. He had Jericho backed into the corner, delivering vicious kicks and punches before the ref had to physically pull him off Jericho. A few seconds later, however, when Jericho began yelling about his father, about his sister, he was right back where he started.

He was so angry he could barely see straight and before he even thought about what he was doing, he was out of the ring and back in with a steel chair. The only thing that stopped him from bashing Jericho's skull in with it was the referee stepping in front of him and yelling at him.

"I'll disqualify you!"

With inhuman effort, Punk managed to drop the chair and he turned, bending forward at the waist, pressed his hands to his head in an effort to calm down. If he went after Jericho in that moment, he was sure he wouldn't be able to stop himself from killing the man.

Jericho took the opportunity to attack, Punk retaliated, and pretty soon there were no more taunts and the match was about who was best after all. They traded blows, landed some pretty nasty hits before Punk finally managed to get the Anaconda Vice cinched in and in a way that Jericho wouldn't be able to counter. When Jericho finally tapped, Punk lay on the mat for several minutes, breathing through the pain in his back but satisfied with the results.

As the fans cheered his name, he felt a since of joy run through his body. He fought for his family, fought for his beliefs. He celebrated a few minutes with the fans, surprised when Jericho immediately rolled out of the ring and allowed him the moment. After the celebration, he headed up the ramp, and into his dressing room. He wanted, no, he needed to shower.

He still hurt. His back ached horribly but the pain was a distant second at that moment. He didn't want to get out of his ring gear, but he was all sweaty and he hurt. Showers alleviated the pain somewhat when he had a hard hitting match like tonight. So, without a second thought, he headed into the showers.

It did feel good, letting the hot water roll down his aching back. He stayed in a lot longer than normal. When he got out, a towel wrapped around his waist, he dug in his bag, pulling out jeans and a shirt and finally noticing his phone. He already had several messages, from his sisters and his friends. He scrolled through them quickly but was disappointed there was nothing from AJ.

He figured that she wouldn't be able to text him tonight, and then he felt a pang of guilt for her. He knew Bryan was going to blame her for it, and it wasn't her fault. He thought of the premeditated murder plan, wishing he could act on it.

He hoped she'd be on RAW the next night so he would at least have a chance to talk to her. Sighing, he put his phone away and got dressed.

Xxxxxx

Lying on her back, AJ stared up at the ceiling, trying to process what had happened. She was extremely happy Punk won his match, but guilty that she had cost her boyfriend his title all the same. She knew it was her fault; Bryan didn't need to throw it back in her face.

It was her fault he'd been distracted but there was something, some feeling that was unfamiliar that had settled in her gut as soon as he had turned those accusing eyes on her.

Not everything is your fault.

Punk's voice seemed to echo in her head and she turned over on her stomach, burying her head in the pillow. She wanted to believe him. And he had treated her so nicely. But, Daniel's eyes. They were so angry, shocked. She bit her lip hard in an effort not to cry. Daniel hadn't spoken a word to her since they'd left the arena.

You don't deserve this, AJ.

But how could Daniel do it if she didn't deserve it? She still had the light fingerprint bruises on her upper arm from him dragging her out of the arena. She bit her lip harder, and winced when she felt the skin break. She wanted so desperately to believe him.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time RAW rolled around, Daniel still hadn't spoken to her. AJ's mood had gotten worse the longer it went on and she couldn't help but to search Punk out a soon as they got backstage. She was disappointed she didn't find him, at least not until the 'meeting' the new general manager called.

She was one of the people who smiled when Punk called the GM a toolbox, but quickly frowned when he was placed in a match with the world's strongest man. She watched him, watched his expression. She'd seen his match against Jericho, knew he most likely wasn't at a hundred percent. Mark Henry was difficult enough for someone who was completely healthy.

She began to silently panic at what damage Mark Henry could possibly inflict on him. She couldn't stick around to talk to him though. Daniel pulled her from the room as soon as the 'meeting' was over. She knew all she would do was worry until Punk's match.

She watched the show from the backstage monitor, with Daniel still not speaking to her at all. She couldn't believe the crowd's reaction to last night was still fresh in their minds. Every time a match started, they'd chant "Yes, Yes, Yes!"

As much as that burned, her worry came back immediately when Punk finally made his way down to ringside, as well as Mark Henry. Right from the moment bell rang; Mark Henry was in complete control.

AJ cringed her way through it, at how Henry targeted Punk's already injured back, at the agony she could see clearly on Punk's face. She was relieved when it was over, even though it ended on a count out on Punk's part when Henry threw him outside the ring. Her heartbeat picked up once again, however, when Henry didn't let it go at that.

When he performed the world's strongest slam outside the ring, she sat up straighter and her hand went to her mouth. Punk was writhing on the floor, agony on his face. She gasped and nearly jumped out of her seat when she heard the voice of Chris Jericho.

She was practically vibrating with anger and concern while Punk writhed on the floor, and Jericho spoke, going on yet another rant about Punk's family. She did jump to her feet when she saw him go to the timekeepers table and pull out a bottle of whiskey.

She watched in horror as he opened the bottle and began to pour it all over Punk, taunting him. It didn't stop there. Jericho continued on, punching and kicking Punk until he was still, lying face down in the puddle of alcohol. She prayed Jericho would leave when he walked away this time.

But he came back with another bottle, and she screamed when she saw the glass break on Punk's head. Without thinking, she went to leave the room, but Daniel had grabbed her by the arm. She pushed him away, and ran.

Desperate, she sprinted down to ringside, ignoring the crowd's reaction to her presence. She stopped short, almost sliding when she went to her knees beside Punk, who hadn't moved an inch since Jericho had smashed the bottle over his head.

"Punk!" Terrified, she leaned over him but he showed no reaction to her call. She was horrified when she realized that he was lying face down in the alcohol, horrified at the thought of him breathing the stuff in. Without thinking, she grabbed him, and, showing more strength than she thought she had, heaved him over onto his back.

She tried her best to wipe the alcohol from his face as trainers came to his aid. She quickly moved to his other side to give them room to work, the panic she'd been feeling only growing the longer he stayed unconscious.

She wanted to find Jericho and beat the living hell out of him. She refused to leave Punk, however, as the trainer pressed his knuckles against Punk's sternum, trying to wake him up. Slowly, he began to come to, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

He still didn't look like he even knew where he was, however, and the trainers slowly helped him sit up. He leaned heavily on one of them as they counted a three before lifting him up to his feet. She got up as well, and went to help him walk back to the locker room, but one of the trainers moved her out of the way.

"Please," she said and he must have seen the desperation in her eyes because he allowed her to move to Punk's right side and pull one of his arms around her shoulder. She wrapped hers securely around his waist and they began the slow trek back to the locker room.

Once backstage, they went into the trainer's area to have him checked out. AJ sat beside him, holding his hand as they looked over him. He didn't speak, was still pretty out of it. She'd never seen him so silent for so long and it worried her more than anything. Finally, one of the trainers motioned to her and she went off to the side.

"You know anyone who can stay with him tonight? Someone needs to. Just in case he shows some signs of a concussion."

AJ looked back at Punk, lying on the trainer's table and her eyebrows drew together in sympathy. She spoke without thinking.

"I'll stay with him." She chewed her lip and went back over to Punk. She thought briefly of Daniel, who was probably even more pissed at her. He had to of seen her go down to ringside but thoughts of Daniel were wiped from her brain when Punk groaned and tried to sit up on his own. She had to stay with him.

"I need to shower..." He whispered.

"You need to rest a minute," AJ said, getting up on the table and letting him lean on her, keeping him upright.

"I need to shower..."

He tried to struggle to his feet even. Alarmed, AJ tried to keep him from it and was relieved when one of the trainers came back over, helping her keep him still.

"I need to shower..." He said, this time a little louder. "I need to shower...Please..." To AJ's shock, he was close to tears. "Please..."

AJ shared a look with one of the trainers. "Okay. Alright, it's okay." She let one of the trainers keep him steady and hopped off the table, quickly pulling off his boots and kick pads before she let him get up.

"Alright. Come with me."

AJ had one of his arms around her shoulders, helping to steady him as she led him quickly back to his locker room. She wasted no time when they reached it, going into the showers and turning up the hot water as far as she dared.

He slid down to the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, rocking back and forth. "I'm like him, I'm like him..." he repeated, letting the tears fall.

AJ repressed tears of her own and knelt on his left, wrapping her arms tightly around him. She figured they looked like quite a sight. Him still in only his trucks huddled on the floor. Her in her now soaked clothes, her much smaller body wrapped around his.

"I'm like him..." he repeated over and over. She moved to where she was in front of him, placed hands on either side of his face. His eyes were wide and bloodshot.

"Punk..." She tried to get him to see her, to still him but he continued his rocking and, without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him softly. She could taste the salt of his tears intermingled with the hot water of the shower and she felt him still finally at the touch of her lips. It only lasted a few seconds and there was nothing sexual about the moment. It was about compassion, about showing him that she, at least, did care about him.

He closed his eyes when he reopened them, he saw AJ for the first time. He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her smaller body and rested his forehead on her shoulder. They stayed like that for several minutes, letting the hot water beat down on them, neither moving.

Finally, AJ pulled back. "Let's get you out of here." He nodded his head, but didn't say a word.

It took a while for him to change. AJ had a moment of panic to realize that her clothes were soaked and all of her dry ones were back in Daniel's locker room. Punk seemed to know her dilemma, however, because he silently offered her a pair of his black shorts and a tee-shirt. She accepted them without much hesitation and went back into the shower rooms so they could both change with some privacy.

His shirt almost went down to her knees but she hardly noticed. She didn't press him to talk, was silent as well as they made their way out. She drove them to the hotel and he leaned back in the passenger seat. She knew he was still in a lot of physical pain but he seemed more focused on the other kind of pain, the internal kind that Jericho's attack had brought on.

When they reached the hotel, both of them got out of the car. They walked into the hotel, and instead of AJ going to her room, he was shocked that she stopped outside his door with him.

"I'm staying with you," she said, determined and was relieved when he didn't argue. Instead, he simply unlocked the door and headed straight towards the bed. He only spared time to kick off his shoes and AJ followed his lead. Once again, she didn't hesitate before she got into bed beside him and didn't protest when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing Punk became aware of when he came to was pain. His first thought upon waking, in fact, was that he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. The second thing he became aware of was the warmth of the smaller body pressed closely against his. Opening his eyes, he saw that AJ was sleeping peacefully beside him, and he didn't want to wake her.

He didn't want to move. His back seemed to have seized up a bit while he'd been sleeping. This was exactly the reason why he didn't like going to sleep directly after a match. He was surprised he could even sleep at all after what happened the night before.

Moving slowly, he managed to roll onto his back, only to suppress a groan. His head was pounding ruthlessly as well. He felt like more of a mess than he had after his last TLC match. Slowly but surely, he managed to sit up. Every movement hurt, and hurt badly. He let out an exhausted sigh as he put his head in his hands. He needed to get up. If he didn't work it out, his back would only get worse. Still he stayed where he was for a minute and jumped when a soft voice spoke behind him.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded his head, keeping the silence from the night before. The longer he was awake, the longer he had to think past the physical pain to what else had happened last night. And, suddenly, he wanted to shower again as the vivid memory of the alcohol coating his body assaulted him and he could swear he could still smell the overwhelmingly strong odor.

He made himself walk over to where his bags were. He picked up a t-shirt, jeans, and headed into the bathroom without a word.

Xxxxxxxx

AJ watched him go, dropping down on her back again and staring at the ceiling for a minute. She heard the shower start in the bathroom as she began to run through the events from last night. Despite the less than desirable circumstances, staying with him, even sleeping next to him didn't feel wrong like it should.

It surprised her that for the first time, she didn't feel nearly as afraid of Daniel as she had a few weeks ago. Last night, she did something she'd never thought she could do; she pushed him away from her. She'd pushed him away without feeling guilty about it. She'd been so consumed with panic, so worried about Punk she hadn't even thought about it. Even she knew that said something, that it meant something.

She couldn't help but worry about Punk, though. He hadn't spoken a word since the breakdown in the shower and that scared her. Punk was one of the most talkative people she knew, and for him to go silent meant that Jericho had really messed with his head.

She also knew she was supposed to be on Smackdown that night which meant that she couldn't stay with him all day. She allowed a frustrated sigh to escape her lips, as she sat up. For a moment, she entertained the idea of blowing it off completely. It wasn't as if she would be doing much. She had barely been booked in any matches since she and Daniel had started dating. But, she knew that if she didn't go, she'd probably lose her job and that was something she didn't want. She decided to wait till he came out of the shower, to see if he'd open up to her at all.

He stayed in long enough to make her start worrying about him again and when he came out, his skin had a slightly red tint to it, like he'd scrubbed it too hard or had the hot water turned up too much. He spoke up for the first time when he finally met her gaze.

"Still here?" The question wasn't harsh, simply curious and his voice had a mildly hoarse quality to it.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I'm worried-

"Don't be. I'll be fine." Even as he winced when he sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for his shoes. "Don't you have to be on Smackdown?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "If you want me to leave..."

He ran a hand over his face, somehow looked even more exhausted than before he had slept. "You...you want me to go with you?" He offered quietly and she could see that it cost him something to make that offer. She doubted he wanted to be around anyone at that moment.

"I would love that, but I can see that you're still not feeling up to talking to anyone, and I don't want to make you be around people if you don't want to."

He turned to her and the look on his face finally softened. "I'm being a dick, aren't I? I really do appreciate it...what you did last night."

"You're welcome, anytime," she replied, "You're not being a jerk; you're just still bothered by what happened."

He tilted his head. "I don't want you getting hurt. Bryan..."

"Yeah, about that... I might have pushed him away when he grabbed my arm to try and stop me from going out there..."

"Might have?" He paused. "Okay. I'm definitely going with you then."

"I'm more worried about you than me right now," she said, "I know you're still angry, and when you're angry, you have a hard time controlling it. I don't want you to hurt someone or yourself."

He laughed at that and the sound was more bitter than anything else. "Don't worry. I'm not the self-harm type."

"I meant that if someone gets you angry enough..."

"AJ, please," he started sharply and then pressed a hand to his forehead, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "Can we please not talk about this right now?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"No, I'm sorry." He paused, raked his hair back. "Look, I don't want you going there alone. How about you let me protect you?"

She let a small smile cross her lips, "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

And for the first time since Lauranaitus had scheduled him in that match with Henry, a smile curved his lips as well. "Not this time."

"Then I guess you're coming with Me." she replied with a giggle.

"I guess I am."

Xxxxxxx

Hours later, AJ sat beside Punk backstage. She had considered what she should do when she'd woken up to the fact that she was still wearing his clothes and that hers were still with Daniel. She had had a moment of panic, of indecision after she'd decided to run out to the store and buy herself something to wear on Smackdown. Did this mean her and Daniel were over? She was terrified of facing him, terrified of what his reaction to her would be after RAW.

Her eyes glued to the monitor when she heard his music play, and her fear increased when she saw the look of pure anger on his face. She felt Punk tense beside her as well. He'd been tense since they'd made it to the arena. Tense and silent. She had seen the relief on his face when they'd run into Sheamus and he'd offered to let them use his locker room. He hadn't even asked Punk any questions or made any comments about Jericho. AJ was grateful to him as well and she was glad that, at least, one person understood that Punk did not want to talk to anyone about what had gone on.

"18 seconds." Bryan said after taking a mic, "18 seconds, and it was all over."

AJ frowned as she watched him on the monitor. She knew what was coming, had been waiting for it.

"It was caused by someone who I thought loved me; someone who I thought would stand by me."

AJ sighed, and she felt that sadness settle in on her. She'd been expecting it but it didn't make it any less painful.

"AJ, get your ass out here!" Daniel yelled, "We need to have a little chat."

AJ's frown deepened. She'd heard that tone before but, this time, there was anger mixed in with the pain that usually accompanied that tone directed at her. She started to get up.

"Do you need me to come with you?" Punk asked, holding her hand.

AJ stared down into his green eyes, eyes that held nothing but concern for her. She thought about everything he'd said to her, thought about how he looked at her. Like she was special, like an equal. It was there as he looked at her now too and it gave her strength she hadn't known she had.

"No," she finally answered. "I need to face him myself."

With a nod, Punk let go of her hand, and gave her an encouraging smile. "Give him a piece of your mind."

She managed to smile back at him before leaving the locker room and making her way out to ringside. She was still nervous but she kept Punk's eyes, that look in her head as she went to get a microphone before making it into the ring.

AJ stood still as Daniel immediately began ranting at her. She straightened further when he blamed her for his loss. It lasted longer than she expected. She finally stopped him, snapped at one particular insult.

"You ruined everything. You just had to steal the spotlight-"

"What spotlight?" She burst out, cutting him off. "You mean trailing after you while you treat me like crap?" Her eyes widened. "You wanna talk?" AJ continued, surprising herself. "Let's talk about how you've done nothing but mistreat me through our entire relationship, and how I've been nothing but loving towards you. Let's talk about how you'd grab my wrists when you'd get angry, and yet, I'd stayed by your side. Let's talk about how you've done nothing but make me feel worthless and like I didn't deserve to live. Let's talk about how even though it's your fault you lost the title; you blame me, like you always do."

She was practically trembling as the words left her mouth and she reached back to grip the ropes with one hand. Daniel looked surprised as well but, after a moment, anger and amusement entered his expression.

"Unlike CM Punk, right? Oh, what do you think, AJ? That he cares anymore for you than I do?"

"Yeah, I do." she fired back, "At least he doesn't hit me, he doesn't make me feel worthless, or blame me for anything."

"You are so naive," Daniel said, his tone turning condescending. "You really believe he's not using you?"

"Yeah, he's not, unlike you. That's all you did, was use me."

"You two deserve each other," Daniel said scathingly, in her personal space. "He's just as pathetic as you are-"

AJ moved without thinking about it. In fact, she wasn't even sure what had happened until she felt the sting in her hand where it connected with Daniel's cheek.

Daniel looked stunned, surprised. Then angry. He backed her towards the ropes but didn't have a chance to do anything to her. She was relieved when Sheamus' music hit and she slipped through the ropes and out of the ring when Daniel was distracted.

Sheamus caught her as she was backing up the ramp. "Had to keep your boy from comin' out here himself," he said, his gaze focused on Daniel. "Go on, I'll take care of this one."

"Thank you," AJ whispered before she turned and ran backstage.

As she went back to the locker room, AJ couldn't believe what just happened out there. Did she just stand up to Daniel Bryan? Did she just slap the very man who inflicted so much pain and fear in her? Were they really over?

"You okay?"

She jumped at the voice and turned to face Punk, was surprised to find him outside Sheamus' locker room.

"I think so," she replied

She let him pull her closer. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Yeah, I am."

He nodded, gave her a bit of a smile. "Alright."

She left with him, her mind still whirling at what had happened in the ring but she found that she didn't regret it. She couldn't.


	11. Chapter 11

AJ lasted until they made it back to Punk's hotel room. She remained strong until then. As soon as Punk closed the door, however, she dropped face first on his bed, buried her head in his pillow and the tears she'd been suppressing since she had left the ring finally fell.

"AJ?" Punk sounded startled and he put a hand on her back.

She continued to cry as the realization of what she just did hit her.

Punk pulled her up then and she clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She and Daniel were through and the tears were those of both grief and a surprising feeling of relief so strong it was overwhelming.

"It's going to be okay…" He whispered.

She pulled back and gave him a smile. "I know," she said and she meant it. She knew it.

"You're free to do whatever you want, now. You don't have to be under someone else's control."

Her smile only widened and she leaned back into him, laid her head on his shoulder.

They sat there for a while, taking in the silence and the warmth of one another's body pressed to each other.

"Want some Ice Cream?" Punk asked with a smile on his face.

"Ice cream?" AJ asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Yeah, you know the stuff made with Milk?"

"Yes, I know what it is, dork. I'm just trying to figure out if you're always this random," she answered, amusement coloring her voice.

He just nodded his head, "So, want some?"

"Sure," she finally relented. "Although, I can't believe you keep ice cream in your hotel room."

"Room service, dork."

She slapped him on the arm. "Fine, fine. Order then."

"What kind do you want?" he asked, picking up the phone.

"Whichever." She dropped back on his bed and stretched a moment. When she turned her gaze back on him, he was staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, dialing out for room service.

About 10 minutes later, they were eating their huge bowls of chocolate Ice Cream, and AJ felt better just being with Punk and the Ice Cream tasted good, too.

Punk had popped in one of his DVD's of the first season of The Walking Dead. AJ had heard of it, of course, but had yet to see it and she scrunched up her nose at one particular part.

"Ew!" She yelled, half disgusted, half completely engrossed.

"What?" he asked.

AJ only grinned, practically bouncing on the edge of her seat as the zombies tried to break through a locked door to get to one of the characters.

"He's so going to die."

"Yep."

His attention was on her instead of the screen and he was smiling at the excitement in her eyes, smiling at the fact that she looked happy.

"Thank you for everything," she whispered. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Punk simply shrugged. "Returning the favor," he reminded her.

"You got plans for your days off?" Punk asked after a moment, setting aside his ice cream and watching her.

"I was planning on seeing my family… I haven't seen them in months."

Punk shrugged and his smile fell. "Not scheduled for the house shows this week. They took me off. I haven't had this many days off since I left after Money in the Bank." It wasn't really an answer and AJ frowned.

"Did I upset you?"

"No," he said, letting out a frustrated breath. "I just...My friends are probably worried...and, shit...my sisters...

"Call them."

He shook his head. "That's even worse. Talking about...that over the phone." AJ's frown was back as she watched him. The expression on his face was beginning to remind her of the one she'd seen the night before, after RAW had ended.

"Do you want me to call them and tell them you're okay?"

He shook his head. "No, that'll just make them worry more." He stared off a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "It shouldn't be like this. I should be over this. I'm thirty three years old, not a kid anymore."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No." He fidgeted restlessly for a moment before standing. "I need...I think I'm going to go for a run."

"Want me to come or…"

"No...I don't know..." He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, the frown on his face only deepening. She could see the mixed emotions passing over his face, could see the indecision in his face. She'd never seen him like it before.

AJ's worry increased. She could see what was happening. He'd been focusing on her all day, focusing on her and Daniel but with a few simple questions about the days off they had, all those issues brought out originally by Jericho were brought back. AJ got up on her knees on the bed and she reached for his hands, stilling them in hers.

"Punk..." She searched for the right words to calm him down. "It's going to be okay, I promise." She said, pulling him into a hug.

She felt him practically vibrating with excess energy even as he returned the gesture. It didn't last long and she conceded that maybe he did need it. "Okay, I'm going with you."

He sighed and nodded his head. "Thank you."

She gave him a tight smile. It wasn't as if she could sleep either. After what had happened with Daniel...and he wasn't the only one who was feeling nerves at the prospect of facing family again.

Xxx

When Monday night came around, AJ could see that Punk was still very shaken up about what Jericho had done to him. He really didn't talk about it in the few times she had texted him, and she could see that his skin still had a raw appearance to it, like he constantly scratched at the skin.

She'd had a rather tearful reunion with her parents but they hadn't pushed her away like she had feared they would. She'd talked to them and felt infinitely better after a long discussion with her mother that had ended with her sobbing on the older woman's shoulder. Now, she sat next to Punk in his locker room. At least he had let her in, although the pain she had seen in him last week seemed to have given way to anger.

She couldn't blame him; she felt nothing but anger towards Jericho as well. There were just some things you didn't do to someone, and poring alcohol on someone who is straight edge was one of them. You also didn't break a bottle over someone's head, just because you lost a match to them.

She was also worried. He was supposed to face Mark Henry again, and after what Henry had done to him last week, she couldn't not be worried. Henry was probably angry about how the match ended. Angry enough to hurt someone.

She knew he had to address the WWE universe, and she knew he really didn't want to. Still, he went out there and she chewed on her thumbnail, wondered what he was going to say. He had hardly spoken of it to her and she'd had the feeling that he was psyching himself up to even be able to talk about it.

He looked shaken up, and she could tell that the WWE universe knew that as well.

AJ sat nervous through the first part, while he recapped what had happened to him but her breath caught when he broke off, when she saw the pained look on his face as he admitted what he had been thinking when he'd been lying in that pool of alcohol before he'd lost consciousness.

"And as I lay there, in and out of consciousness, struggling to regain some semblance of where I was. I wasn't thinking 'How bad am I hurt?' Am I going to be able to go on the international tour?' There was one thought in my head and that thought was 'I smell exactly like my father did'."

AJ felt tears sting the corners of her eyes at his words. She closed her eyes as he continued, speaking about his memories of his father but her eyes snapped open when she heard Chris Jericho's voice. Anger coiled in her chest when he accused Punk of being drunk and then, when Punk taunted him back. The pain she'd seen a second before on Punk's face turned to absolute rage. She could almost feel it coming off him even through the screen.

Before anything else could happen, Mark Henry's music played.

The match didn't last long. Mark Henry only got in one hit before Punk rolled out of the ring and, that rage still on his face, he slammed one of the monitors from the announce table first into Henry's stomach and then into his back.

She knew the ref had to disqualify him, but she knew he didn't care, either.

He went to hit Henry yet again with the monitor but, before he could, Jericho's music played. AJ stood up, her nervousness increasing. The distraction had given Henry enough time to get up and he assaulted Punk, threw him into the ring and performed the world's strongest slam twice.

Her eyes went wide when she saw what Jericho had in his hands.

He was waltzing towards the ring and he waited until Henry had left the ring before setting the boxes down and pulling out a beer. She had a moment of hope when Punk landed a kick to his midsection and threw himself at Jericho but that hope died when Jericho landed the Code Breaker. She only stayed there long enough to watch him start to pour the first beer on Punk before she bolted from the locker r room and towards the ring. By the time she made it out there, Jericho was already leaving.

Her eyes filled with tears as she tended to him, helping him sit up. She knew he wanted to shower, so she wasn't going to try and stop him.

The strong smell of the beer was overwhelming. This time, however, when he was able to sit up and open his eyes, he wasn't dazed, wasn't in shock. The pain wasn't there but the rage was. His hands curled into fists and he shoved the referee away when the man tried to help him stand up. He was practically shaking with the rage.

"Let me help him, please." AJ said, offering her hand.

"Punk?" She called to him hesitantly. He was livid and she was unsure of how he was going to react to her.

He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before he finally slid out of the ring and, without a backward glance, walked up the ramp and backstage.

AJ just stood there, not sure what to do. When she was urged by the referees, she left the ring, walking slowly backstage. Things had gone so badly, yet again. She knew Punk wasn't angry with her but he had left without even acknowledging her presence.


	12. Chapter 12

Walking backstage, AJ couldn't understand what just happened. She came out to help Punk, like she did the week before, but this time he pushed her away, got angry at her. She needed answers, needed to find him and she did. His locker room door was unlocked when she got there and she could hear the shower running. She stood unsure for a moment but it wasn't as if she could burst in on him in the shower this time. She sat on the bench to wait instead. It took him a while, but eventually he finished showering, and stepped out to find her waiting for him.

In nothing but a towel, he stopped short at the sight of her before he closed the distance between them and pulled her into an embrace. "I'm sorry."

"I was just trying to help..." she whispered, "Why did you push me away?"

He pulled away from her and sat down on the bench, resting his elbows against his knees and digging the heels of his hands against his temples.

"I was a little...angry," he said, the wry smile on his face telling her that he was aware of the massive understatement. "Didn't want to take it out on you."

"Thank you for being honest, I know he's getting inside your head, I can tell."

"I need this to stop," he admitted, some of the anger coming back into his tone.

"I wish there was something... maybe if I try to talk to him-

"No, no way." He cut her off.

"You don't need to get involved, I don't want you hurt."

"But I-"

"AJ." His voice came firm and he finally met her gaze. "Please don't. I can't deal with you...getting hurt on top of this."

"It hurts me to see what he's doing to you." She said, "I-I care about you."

The corner of his lip turned up in a half smile. "I'll be alright. I've dealt with this shit before. Lived through it and Jericho isn't the first person to bring it up."

"I know, but still. I want to help."

He leaned closely to her and brushed her hair back. "You are helping."

"How?"

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit," he stated calmly. "I'm here, aren't I? Not huddled in the shower this time. How can you not know that that's because of you?"

"Sorry, it's just Daniel-

"Don't think about what crap he put into your head."

She looked down. "I can't help it sometimes," she admitted.

His hand moved to her chin and he lifted her head. "I know but it's not true. None of it is. I think I'm proof of that. I'm not even sure if I would have shown up tonight if not for you."

She smiled at his words, "Thank you."

"I'm going to get dressed," he said, standing. "After that, you want to go back to the hotel and pick up on that marathon?"

"Sure, sounds good." She smiled at him and left the room so he could change.

It didn't take him long to get dressed, and he met her outside the locker room. They left the arena together. As soon as they got back to the hotel, AJ asked Punk if he wanted Ice Cream and called room service to order it.

Pretty soon, they were doing the same thing they had last time. They weren't sitting in the same position, however. Leaning against the headboard, AJ rested her head against Punk's shoulder, her eyes riveted on the television screen.

"This show is disgusting," she commented idly.

"And that's why I love it."

"I don't mind disgusting but that..." She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the hung zombie with the skin stripped from his legs.

"What's wrong with that?" he asked with a laugh.

She grinned and dug a knuckle into his ribs. "Maybe you're disgusting," she said lightly, and giggled when he squirmed away from her touch.

"Hey, I'm not disgusting," he replied with a laugh, "I'm the best in the world!" He retaliated then, his fingers finding her ribs. She slapped his hands away.

"If that's what helps you sleep."

"I don't sleep."

"Whatever," AJ said with a roll of her eyes. "What makes you so sure you're the best anyway? I'm not so sure."

"That hurts." He laughed and put a hand over his heart in mock pain and AJ fought to keep her expression calm "Because I say I am."

"What I if I say I am?"

"Then, we can be the best in the world together?"

She considered that for a moment, making him wait before she shrugged and laid her head back on his shoulder. "I guess that'll work."

"It better work," he replied with a smile.

She laughed lightly. "Tell me they find the girl..." She started, her attention back on the screen. She missed the smile on Punk's face.

"Sure they do."

It didn't take long, but AJ soon felt tired as she laid there on Punk's shoulder. They had both settled back against the pillows and she drifted off like that, vaguely aware of his hand in her hair.

Xxx

This, Punk had decided after waking up after only a couple of hours of sleep, was one of the few times he wasn't cursing his inability to stay asleep for any length of time. His back ached horribly-from his match and from the position he'd slept in and he knew the only relief he would get for that would be when he could hit the gym to work out the kinks in his muscles but AJ was sleeping against him. Her head had slipped down to rest on his chest, his hand still tangled in her hair and, for the moment, he was unwilling to get up. Not shortly after, He looked over to see AJ's eyes start to open.

"Hey," he said with a half smile.

"Hey," she replied, sleepily. She turned to glance at the clock. "You sleep any?"

He shrugged but his smile didn't leave. "Never do."

"Sorry."

He shook his head and got up after she moved away from him, stretching out his muscles. "It's my choice, really." He paused. "I'm used to it."

"How do you function without sleep?"

He frowned a bit. "I actually think I function better when I don't sleep than when I do."

She nodded her head. "Do you have any plans for the day?

"Got a couple days off again. I swear, if they keep giving me these days off, I might actually get some rest." He paused. "I was planning on heading back to Chicago. I know you have to be at the Smackdown tapings tonight..."

"Yeah, and I don't want to go."

"I could go with you." He hesitated again but met her gaze steadily when he spoke next. "You could come with me after, if you wanted."

"To Chicago?" she asked, "You mean that?"

He nodded. "Look, you don't have to and my friends'll probably be there. I know Colt will be but I'd like it...if you came with me."

"I'd love to."

A real smile broke out on his face. "Good."

Xxxx

AJ was having a hard time controlling her tears. She couldn't help it. She sat backstage, her hand gripping Punk's tightly while she watched Roddy Piper verbally destroy Daniel for the way he had treated her.

"Now you believe it?" Punk had leaned close to her and he whispered the words in her ear.

"Yeah, I do."

The tears did fall then. It wasn't even about Piper. Punk was the one who had started it, the one who'd been telling her the exact same things since they'd started...whatever it was that they had but sitting there, listening to Piper say the exact same things...it was like confirmation. She blinked and smiled through her tears. She'd thought about going out there, confronting Daniel yet again but realized she didn't need to.

"Can we go now?"

"Yeah, we can." He said, taking her hand and standing up. She left with him, never losing her grip on his hand and the smile never left her face.


End file.
